


What Doesn't Kill You

by PaintingWithWords (paint_with_words)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: #domesticvictuuriweek, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Domestic Victuuri Week 2018, Gen, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 01:50:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13330935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paint_with_words/pseuds/PaintingWithWords
Summary: There’s a stomach bug going around the rink and both Yuuri and Viktor manage to catch it, although thankfully not at the same time.  (There are brief, non-specific mentions of vomiting, so if that’s a trigger for you, be warned.)





	What Doesn't Kill You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [prompt ](https://domesticvictuuriweek.tumblr.com/prompts) "cooking/care" for day two of Domestic Victuuri Week 2018.

Yuuri felt like he’d been hollowed out, weak and exhausted and sore.  The last vestiges of the stomach bug that had been going around the rink were finally fading, but not fast enough for him.  He’d spent the better part of the past two days either in bed or on the couch, so sick he could barely move, being waited on hand and foot by Viktor.  Now that the worst was over and he could actually hold something down, Viktor was sure he’d be back on his feet in no time.  For his part, all Yuuri wanted to do was sleep.  He didn’t care how many days of practice they’d missed, at least not right now.  After a long shower, in which he barely had the energy to wash his hair, Viktor dried him off and helped him back to bed. 

A little before dawn, Yuuri woke to the sound of harsh coughing.  He sat up and saw that the bathroom door was closed, a tiny crack of light spilling out from underneath it.  Next to him, the bed was empty, the covers thrown back.  He sighed as he realized Viktor must have caught the stomach bug from him.  Slowly and painfully, Yuuri got out of bed, reaching the door just as it opened.  Viktor stood in the doorway, looking pale and drawn, and it was obvious to Yuuri that he’d been sick.  Yuuri put his arm around Viktor and helped him back to bed. 

He tended to Viktor as best he could, but Yuuri was still recovering from being ill himself.  He doubted he was doing anywhere near as good of a job taking care of Viktor as Viktor had done taking care of him.  He felt guilty about it, but there was little he could do besides encourage Viktor to drink fluids in an effort to keep him hydrated.  He wasn’t about to try to get him to eat.  They’d learned that lesson the hard way.

Viktor dozed off and on throughout the day, generally only waking when he was about to be sick.  It made Yuuri’s stomach hurt in sympathy every single time it happened.  In the beginning, he helped Viktor to the bathroom and then back to bed.  When things got worse and Viktor’s stomach hurt so much he could barely sit up, let alone stand, Yuuri held the trash can for him and cleaned it out when he was done.  Poor Viktor looked so miserable!  If only there was something more he could do to help.

There were times Viktor wanted to be in bed, curled up with Makkachin, and there were times he got tired of lying in bed and wanted to lay on the couch, watching mindless television while they waited for the virus to run its course and leave him in peace.  Yuuri understood and stayed by Viktor’s side, stroking his hair while he slept.  The few times he had to leave to take Makkachin out made Yuuri nervous: what if something happened while he was gone?  He set up Facetime on their phones and set Viktor’s beside him so he could keep an eye on him while he was out waiting for Makkachin to do her business.  It was an imperfect solution, but it was all he could do, given the circumstances.

In the afternoon, while Viktor slept in the bedroom, Yuuri finally ate some of the rice Viktor had made for him.  He hadn’t been able to eat it when he was sick with the virus, but now it was soothing on his still delicate stomach, and he was grateful that Viktor had made it for him.  After a few minutes, he began to feel better than he had in days, and vowed to thank Viktor for it when the mere mention of food wouldn’t make him sick.

They moved back to the couch in the evening.  Yuuri sat on the couch, Viktor’s head cradled in his lap.  Absently, he stroked Viktor’s hair out of his face.  Viktor’s hair was so different from his own, fine where his was thick.  It was dirty and limp now as it slipped through his fingers, its normal shine dulled by dirt.  How he hated what this virus had done to them.  Viktor reached up and grasped his right hand, pulling it to his lips to kiss his ring.

“I wanted to be a good husband to you,” Viktor croaked, still holding his hand.  Yuuri’s heart ached at the sound.  He sounded like he felt so bad…

“You will be, Viktor,” he soothed. “Don’t worry.”

“I feel awful.  I’m afraid I’m dying.  You should marry me now, so I can die a happy man.” He gave Yuuri’s hand a little squeeze.  Yuuri hated how weak Viktor’s grip felt and he squeezed back, as though he could give Viktor some of his own strength by this action alone.

“You’re not dying, love.  I had it and I didn’t die.”  Yuuri was well aware that he’d said similar things when he’d been the one lying on the couch, and he also knew that would be little comfort to his sick fiancé.  But he could be here for him and hope that Viktor could take comfort in his presence.

“But you have more stamina than I do, Yuuri,” Viktor moaned.  “You’re stronger than me.  I wanted to grow old with you and now this thing is going to kill me.”

“You’re going to be alright, Viktor, I promise.”  He smiled down at Viktor, who gazed up at him with watery, bloodshot eyes.  Oh, how he loved this man…  He watched as Viktor closed his eyes and slipped back into sleep, hoping he’d be better soon.

The next day, Yuuri sat on the floor by the couch, tucking Viktor’s long bangs behind his ear while he slept.  Every time they slipped back down and fell in Viktor’s face, Yuuri would tuck them back behind his ear again.  How he loved to watch Viktor sleep.  He just wished the circumstances were better. 

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew, Viktor was calling his name.  Yuuri sat up and leaned over, ready to help Viktor in any way he could.  But instead of looking like he was going to be ill, Viktor merely looked pale and tired. 

“How do you feel?”  Yuuri asked, hoping they were finally past the worst of it.

“Better, I think,” Viktor said, sounding a little unsure.  “I think I might be hungry.  I’m not really sure.”

“Do you want me to get you something?” Yuuri sat up, ready to get Viktor whatever he asked for.  Hunger was a good sign.

“I think so.”

“What would you like?” Yuuri asked as he reached out and rested his hand on Viktor’s shoulder.

“Apple sauce?” Viktor said, hesitant.  Yuuri understood why Viktor was reluctant.  He leaned over and softly kissed Viktor’s forehead, happy to see a small smile light up Viktor’s face at his action.

“Okay,” Yuuri said as he slowly got up.  He was still sore from his own bout of sickness and he knew it would be days before his body no longer felt abused.

He made his way into the kitchen and got one of the small cups out of the pantry, pulled a spoon out of the drawer, and joined Viktor on the couch.  Viktor was sitting up and he handed him the cup and spoon.  Viktor ate cautiously, but before long he’d finished it off.  Yuuri put his arm around Viktor as he leaned his head on Yuuri’s shoulder.  If Viktor could keep this down, then they were probably past the worst of this virus and on the road to recovery.

Yuuri petted Viktor’s hair, content to let him rest in silence.  Makkachin joined them on the couch and laid her head in Yuuri’s lap where both of her humans could pet her.  Eventually, Viktor’s hands stilled on Makkachin’s fur and Yuuri felt the heavier weight of Viktor’s head on his shoulder.  Yuuri sighed, grateful that Viktor had dropped back off to sleep.  It was the best thing for him.

Viktor dozed on Yuuri’s shoulder for almost an hour without incident.  Yuuri turned on the TV, but kept the sound muted and set the closed-captioning to English so he could follow along.  Eventually, Viktor stirred and sat up, rubbing at his eyes.

“How do you feel?” Yuuri asked, ready to reach for the waste basket if need be.

“Like I need a shower,” Viktor mumbled.  “I feel disgusting.”

“Let me help you.”

Yuuri got up and helped Viktor make his way to the bathroom.  He turned on the water, helped Viktor undress, and then guided him into the shower and under the warm water.  Once he was certain Viktor was okay on his own, he walked into the bedroom and stripped the bed, leaving the comforter and sheets in a messy pile on the floor.  He could deal with those later. 

Moving slower than he liked, Yuuri grabbed fresh sheets and a couple of towels out of the linen closet.  He tossed the towels into the dryer and started it, then made his way back to the bedroom, where he dropped the folded sheets on the bed and opened the bedroom window as wide as it would go to get fresh air into the apartment.  It was still cold outside, but the chill was invigorating, and he was only going to leave it open for a few minutes anyway.  His mother had always changed his sheets and aired out his room for him whenever he was sick, and it was one of the many things he appreciated and missed about her.

Slowly, Yuuri made the bed, frustrated at how draining something so simple as this was.  He dragged the clean comforter over the bed and laid out a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt for Viktor.  He closed the windows just as the shower shut off and pulled the warm towels out of the dryer.  As Viktor stepped out, he held out the first of the thick towels and wrapped it around him, rubbing his hands over the towel to help dry Viktor off.  He made Viktor sit on the edge of the tub and slipped the second towel around his shoulders.

“This feels wonderful,” Viktor sighed, sagging beneath his hands.  “Thank you, Yuuri.”

Once Viktor was dry, Yuuri helped him to bed.  He slipped the shirt over Viktor’s head and helped him into the flannel bottoms, then pulled the covers back and tucked him in.  Exhausted, Yuuri laid down next to Viktor and took his hand and kissed it.

Viktor rolled to face him and gave him a weak smile.

“You are so very good to me, my sweet Yuuri,” Viktor said.  “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Probably not have gotten sick because you were taking care of me,” Yuuri said, stifling a yawn behind one hand.  Now that they were both in bed and on the mend, the pull of sleep was hard to resist.

“You didn’t get me sick,” Viktor said, his voice coming from far away.  “It was going around the rink anyway.  Don’t blame yourself.”

Normally, Yuuri would have argued, but he was too tired to put up a fight.  He was just glad that the worst of it was over.

“Go to sleep, Viktor,” he murmured, half into the pillow.  When he didn’t get an answer, he pried an eye open to look at Viktor.  He was already asleep, curled on his side, still beautiful despite the illness that had ravaged them both.

Yuuri took Viktor’s hand and laced their fingers together.  He let himself drift, so tired he felt he could sleep for days…

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! As always, comments & kudos are appreciated. You can find me on Tumblr at [paintingwithwords](http://paintingwithwords.tumblr.com). Come say hello. :-)
> 
> You can read more of my fics [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/paint_with_words/works).


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